


How To Feel Confident In Bed

by cabinroad



Category: Panic! at the Disco, Young Veins
Genre: Fluff, M/M, No Panic! AU, No smut but maybe next time, Sweet, Things will get #wild, This is the secret holy grail ship, alternative universe, bearded jon, jon cares so much, jon loves his boy, maybe nsfw, photographer!jon, ryans kinda very emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabinroad/pseuds/cabinroad
Summary: Jon shouldn’t have read over his boyfriend’s shoulder. He wasn’t even supposed to be home yet. Now Ryan’s gotta have an emotional breakdown of some sort.





	How To Feel Confident In Bed

~~2008~~

* * *

 

“What are you doing?”

Ryan jerked his head up and slammed his computer shut quickly. “Nothing. I’m doing nothing.”

His heart thudded in his chest as his boyfriend, Jon, walked over to him. “Open the computer.”

“Why should I?” Ryan tried his best to sound sassy but at this moment, he was a bit embarrassed.

Jon reached over him and opened his laptop. “Are you seriously looking at…” he leaned in closer to make sure he read correctly, “‘How To Feel Confident In Bed’?”

Ryan glared blankly at his computer screen and slowly exed out of the window. “No.”

“Ry…”

“Go away…”

“Ryan are you not happy?” Jon’s voice became worried and shaken. The thought of Ryan not being satisfied filled him with troublesome thoughts of losing his boy.

“No. I’m embarrassed. You weren’t supposed to be home yet. Can we not talk about this?” It was more of a statement than a question as Ryan stood up from the kitchen table and led himself to their bedroom. Jon cringed as he heard the door lock. _I hope he’s okay._

* * *

 

Ryan mentally kicked himself. Never in his life had he been more embarrassed. Never. He tries so hard to come off confident and knowledgeable and sure of himself. He didn’t want Jon to know that there are things he’s just not sure about.

And it’s not Jon. He’s sooo sure about Jon. Nobody’s ever made him feel so special. It’s him.

There were many misconceptions about Ryan in their small community of local artists. He’s a slut, he’s a gold digger, he’s slept with every person within a 100-mile radius. And none of those were partially true. He’s only had a handful of partners and dammit, he can’t help if some of them were in his music community. It’s too late for that. But point is, he’s not as experienced as he’s summed up to be. He…knows the basics. He knows what his human nature tells him to do. He just…wanted to know if he could be better.

Because it isn’t Jon. It isn’t Jon. But Ryan can sometimes convince himself that he’s not enough for such a loving partner. He’s not smart enough in this bed they share.

He wanted to just lay down in their unmade bed but the shaking of his body wouldn’t let him. He decided to do anything he could to not think about his embarrassment.

Ryan made their bed. _I can’t believe he read over my shoulder. That is so disrespectful. That’s rude. That’s practically an invasion of privacy._ He vacuumed their carpets, changed out the oil in their diffuser, lined all their shoes up neatly in their closet. He folded the hamper of clean laundry and put everything away in Jon’s drawers.

 _What’s this?_ Curiosity killed the cat but Ryan was nosey. Jon’s sock drawer held a little wooden box. Ryan couldn’t help himself. He really couldn’t. He felt the angel sitting on his shoulder telling him, “stop! Don’t do it! His privacy! There’s a reason it’s hidden!” But his devil whispered, “of course there’s a reason it’s hidden. What if it’s letters from another man?” Ryan shook away that last thought but justified it in his head with the fact Jon invaded his privacy earlier. He cracked the box open.  
  
Inside were photo prints. Polaroids and mono photos of Ryan. Some he was awake for and some not. Ryan swinging on the swings in the park, smiling and laughing. Ryan laying in the grass with the last bit of a blunt between his lips, his eyes glazed and happy. His hands interlaced with Jon’s, his long fingers obviously squeezing tightly around his lover's hand. Then there were those of Ryan asleep. Ryan laying in their bed with the sheet barely covering his groin, his eyeliner smeared on the pillowcase and his lips parted. Or the aerial shot with Jon’s feet on either side of his body, Ryan’s arms above his head, holding his hair in his sleep, and his bare chest riddled with love bites.  
  
Ryan could feel his heart pounding harder but not in a bad way.  
  
All the photos had names and descriptions. **“The Sunniest Day Of My Life 4/25/2007”** was written in green marker on a photo Jon had taken on their first date. Ryan standing holding an umbrella as rain poured down, smiling ear to ear, as Jon dropped him off at his old apartment. **“Van Gogh’s Wet Dream”** on a photo Ryan had begged Jon not to take but Jon said, “come on. For the aesthetic, Ry. I promise if you hate it, I won’t blow it up for the exhibit.” He didn’t blow it up but it’s obvious he kept it. Ryan was standing in a field of sunflowers and grain, naked with the plants covering from the top of his private area, down.  
  
He shook his head. He really kept all these silly photos? In the very bottom of the box were pieces of paper. Just scraps. 

They were covered in doodles and sketches of Ryan with a guitar. Ryan grabbed a folded piece of paper and opened it up. The top read, “battle of the bands: Chicago summer 2005.” That was the first musical thing Ryan had participated in once moving to Chicago. He smiled fondly at the memory. He read on.

“This little newcomer with the outrageous eyeliner and ridiculously good makeup moves like he has two left feet but plays guitar like he sold his soul in Georgia. I’ve never been more infatuated in my life. No…I’ve never been more in love.”

Ryan’s hands shook. As he folded it back up.

Jon wasn’t the type of guy to stick around for no reason. Jon was a really emotionally connected person. He loved Ryan. _He loves you. Why are you nervous? Why are you embarrassed? Why are you insecure?_ “Because I’ve never been appreciated,” Ryan whispered to himself.

He stacked all the photos and papers back in the box and shut Jon’s dresser.

Ryan needed to apologize. For leaving Jon locked out there wondering for 45 minutes. And for being an insecure brat.

* * *

   
Jon was in the kitchen, cooking boxed Mac and cheese on the stove and drinking a beer. His T-shirt was stretched from years of wear and his hair was a little overgrown. From the way he was standing, Ryan could tell he was tense.

Ryan came behind him slowly and laid his head on Jon’s back, wrapping his arms around his middle. “I’m sorry,” Ryan whispered.

“Why are you sorry?”

Ryan shrugged. “For being a brat. For not being honest and upfront when I know I can trust you.” Jon switched the stove off and set his beer down then shifted to turn around and look at Ryan. “It’s just embarrassing to be like, ‘hey I’ve only ever had 4 other partners and 3 of them were females and I don’t really know if you’re happy or not and I just want to intrigue you.’ You know what I mean?”

Jon cupped Ryan’s cheeks and let their brown eyes lock, “Ry, I’ll listen to whatever you say and help however I can. You know that. I’d never even thought about guys before I met you. You made me realize a secret I’d kept from myself my whole life. If anyone should be lacking confidence, it’s me.” Ryan’s lip quivered. “Please don’t cry, Ry. I’m so happy. I want you to be comfortable. I want us both to try whatever it is that makes you feel your best.”

“You make me feel my best. I know how much you love me.” Guilt ate him alive and he had to tell Jon he had gone through his things. “I…don’t be mad…I saw all those photos and sketches and that…paper from the battle of the bands. I just- I get so caught up in hating myself sometimes that I forget that you love me. And I stress myself to the point of thinking you’re bored of me or of the sex and I just. Want to find ways to entertain you.”

Jon licked his lips, “Ryan, you’re like free cable. You don’t need to think of ways to entertain me. You put on a show every day. Waking up all catty and grumpy, the random insults you come up with. Watching you play guitar or get frustrated with the piano. You’re all the entertainment I need.” Ryan smiled limply. “I’m up for anything, though. If you can think of something that would make you feel better, make you feel safe and confident during sex.”

Ryan’s breath hitched before he spoke, “I want to be under your control. **But I want you to praise me.** ”

 

~~_To Be Continued._ ~~


End file.
